Unitards Rock

I'm about to begin a very dangerous activity.

I always say the only kind of exercise I like to do is Tae Bo.

I've always claimed I couldn't because:
... the VCR is plugged in upstairs. Who wants to bounce around on a second-level hardwood floor??
... I don't liiiiike the new Tae Bo. I miss Billy Blanks' unitard - and all the "friends!"
... I just ate a taco.

I bought a $6 VCR from Goodwill today and had the husband install it downstairs. So I can use my old school Tae Bo - with manboobs popping out of the unitard and all the friends Emily and I became acquainted with in high school. We named them all. They have backstories.

I also made sure not to eat a taco today.

The last time I attempted to Tae Bo - I punched my kid in the head.

So...

Wish me luck. And stay out of my range.

UPDATE

I still love Tae Bo! And the best part? I didn't do it to make up for a binge meal. I didn't do it to plan for a binge meal. I just did it because I like it. A first for me.

I didn't punch my kid in the head - but I did kick my dog.
Skirts and Tae Bo do not mix. Pantsless Tae Bo is jiggly. But I was afraid if I took the time to go find workout clothes I would get distracted or find a taco. So pantsless won.
My hands are shaking from an adrenaline rush and my woken-from-hibernation muscles are thrilled with all this oxygen!

Emily S. - I thought of you the whole time! Miss you!

I Think I Can?

I've never given thought to the concept a fellow HCGer presented to me after hearing of my emotional struggles with food.

- What if? What if I just STOPPED? -

Stopped dieting. Stopped restricting. Stopped obsessing. Stopped worrying. Stopped the internal monologue. Stopped judging myself. Stopped criticizing myself.

If you have self-esteem (something I've apparently been lacking) - this concept may seem common-sense to you. But to me? The perpetually chubby? The thought never crossed my mind.

I've been thinking about it over the last twenty four hours and... I don't know if I LOVE myself enough to do it.

I want to. I really do.

I want to be able to shrug and truly not be bothered that I have to do a fancy little shimmy to get my fitted skirts over my hips.
I want to be able to cut all the size tags out of my skirts.
I want to be able to eat when I'm hungry and *gasp* not eat when I'm full.
I want to know what it is like to love myself unconditionally.
I want to be able to treat myself as a friend, not the enemy.
I want to know what it feels like to wake up each day without the mentally exhausting internal beating of a disappointed fat chick.

Can I?

Can you?

Doggonit!

HCG works - it really does. I've seen and experienced the results.

Even with my half-assed HCG dieting.

And were I not so emotionally intertwined with my fooooooods - I don't think I'd be starting this post. But I am. And I am.

I can't hack it guys. I want to - but it is as do-able for me as wearing pants again. (Ryan and I tried it on a giggly night in a dressing room - it was bad. I'm not sure about her, but I'll never forget the image of Laura in a pair of jeans after wearing skirts for 18 months straight.)

The clincher for me was when I realized that I wasn't happy with how quickly I was losing weight and I was choosing to eat poorly knowing full-well the consequences. Nay - welcoming the consequences. I thought to myself (a lot) - "If I can't eat what ______ is eating - then I'll just be the fat girl. Being fat tastes better anyway."

Does that sound like a statement a NON-mentally-obese-even-if-physically-maybe-not-so-much-but-definitely-not-well-balanced-when-it-comes-to-Poptarts person would make?

I didn't think so.

I've gone back to weekly therapy sessions to deal with my dependency on food. I'll let you know how that goes. I think I may need a lifetime membership to my dear Doctor's club of crazies. Seems the more I dig, the more globs of slimy goo I find within myself.

I hope that whatever brought you to my blog has been enough to either inspire or entertain. It might get ugly if you hang around. Well. Uglier. So I understand if you decide to unbookmark me. (Is that like unfriending on Facebook? Because - I just giggle when I think of the words the year 2011 has taught me.)

If you're into some mentally twisted stuff (No whips. Just whipped cream.) then you're welcome to stick around. See what unfolds. Or what falls off. You never know.

I'm toying with the idea of taking HCG while I follow Weight Watchers. There are quite a few "rogue" HCG dieters. Who take HCG drops or pellets or shots and then just let it do its thing - all the while eating whatever plan they have set for themselves. No danish Tuesday. Extra pork chops Thursday. Spin in a circle while you eat your cheesecake. Say ten hail Mary's while you alternate shots of tabasco and cod liver oil (This one I actually think might have some merit to it.).

I'd never given the rogue idea much consideration - thinking that if I was going to commit myself to a daily needle I had to do it the right way. But along this journey of self-discovery - I have determined that I've never been one to do things the right way.

And that, my HCG-lovin'/HCG-hatin' Laura-lovin'/Laura-hatin' random-Googlin'/Blog-readin' friends, is my confession for the day.

I like to think of this blog as my totally inappropriate journal - that I'd never share with anyone.

Only - I've published it on the interwebs.

It's Not You

It's me.

Whatever you may glean from my blog - I want to be perfectly clear that this person that is coming across is who I have always been.

This person (dark, light, happy, sad, cheery, bitchy, fat, thin, loud, quiet) is all Me.

Some of you may know all of me - every last shred of truth that has created my personality.

And some of you may know the happy parts and only the happy parts.

And some of you may know more about the dark parts than you care to admit.

But - aren't we all pieces of a puzzle?
Don't we all find ourselves searching for missing sections of ourselves?
Wondering if there will ever be enough pieces to glue together?
To keep the whole picture together on a solid foundation so we can one day stand back and admire who we have become?

A wise friend of mine shared with me a powerful statement - wise beyond my years, for sure - that we are each damaged in one way or another. And at the very core of every human being is the desire to have love not in spite of our damage but because of who we are - damage and all.

(She probably said it a little more eloquently than that - but another fun tidbit about myself is that my recall skills are basically zip.)

All this to say that if you find yourself feeling sad for Little Laura or mad at Grown Laura or confused by spill-your-heart-out Laura - just remember that you have something in common with all those Lauras. The desire for love and acceptance. Love from others, yes. But love and acceptance from yourself above all.

PS - I promised a swimsuit picture - but this blog post took an unexpected self-help turn and a tankini picture doesn't seem as appropriate as it once was.

PPS - When have I ever been termed "appropriate"?

PPPS - I've decided not to disclose all the negative things I thought about my body at this age. That part of me has long-since healed and I see no reason to tear down this beautiful teen Laura in a feeble attempt at full-disclosure.

Much love and kisses!
All the Lauras here at the HighWeigh

All Aforementioned Bridges Are Metaphorical

Wow. Just...wow.

I am blown-away by the love and support that has poured into my world through Facebook, text message, email, and voicemail. I'd like to clear a few things up - but first wanted to thank you all for responding to my pain in such a loving way. I have stared (teary-eyed) at many of your responses for what seems like a very long time and just don't have the right words to say how much your strength and tales of similar life-experiences and feelings have given me a bright spot to focus on.

Thank you - your words mean more than I can convey.

To clarify:

-I am not suicidal-
There was a time, a teeny tiny flicker in my somewhat lengthy existence, where the thought of taking my own life was ever-so-slightly appealing. But I was able to look beyond the pain that lead me down that dangerous road and I am ever grateful for those in my life who unwittingly kept me alive. That time is not now, so I apologize for those I worried. Suicide is such a final decision and I'm glad my circumstances allowed me to work past those thoughts at that time. I never shared with anyone (aside from my then-mental health professional and later, my husband) how I was feeling because I don't think I ever really intended to follow-through.

**Please - if you are feeling suicidal - seek help. Don't go down that road without a hand to hold.**

-I am feeling much better now-
Blogging is therapeutic - and this blog has given me a freedom I haven't felt in other blogs. I am brutally honest with what is going on in my head. I do not pussyfoot around an issue for fear someone might blame themselves for my own imperfections.

-I am imperfect, and that is okay-
Part of this weight-loss journey has been learning to tackle the monster I spoke of and hold her in a submission hug until she is willing to listen to reason. My inner child is not quite strong enough to conquer this task on her own, so I've had to call in re-enforcements. My family and friends, my therapist, and even the strangers I blog to are lending my inner child the weight she needs to hold the out-of-control monster down while we force-feed her some perspective and love.

-If you can relate to this post (and many of my responders have shared that they can), please give your inner child a hug and try to find forgiveness for those that have wronged you-
I will never feel loving feelings toward the boyfriend and I doubt that my childhood bullies could even pick me out of a lineup. But the burden of carrying that hatred around with me has amounted to 40-60 pounds of excess weight. Not the hatred alone, of course, but it was a significant contributor.

-If I can't love my inner child, how am I ever going to love my grown self?-
I am, after all, the end result of a combination of experiences. I would not be the compassionate, empathetic, accepting person that I am had I not been treated with the opposite during my formative years. Embracing little Me leads directly to the acceptance of big Me.

Who is ready to do this with me? Find their inner child (maybe yours is huddling in a dark damp corner, or maybe yours is more like mine - twirling around in a wonderland of edible merry-go-rounds and marshmallow pillows pretending the world is what she wants it to be) and tell them that YOU love them. And that it doesn't matter who else does or does not. Because your love is the strongest and you are big enough to protect them from their bullies and demons.

Here is to many more infections by smile. Go on - hug that inner child of yours.

The Ugly Monster

As I review my pictures from my enchanted night out with the husband - his squadron Christmas party - I wonder why it is I don't see that woman in the mirror.

When I look in the mirror - I see a monster. An ugly, overweight, zitty-faced, pointy-nosed monster.

But as I look at this picture - I see a beautiful young woman. The kind of beauty that I'd kill for. If this woman was my friend - I'd slap her silly for saying the things that I think when I look in the mirror.



Being truthful with myself, I don't see this woman in the mirror.

I see this girl.


And this girl is sad.


And fat.


And smelly.


And always left out.


This girl doesn't get invited to parties. She be-friends those who have felt the pain that she feels when she hears the things people whisper when she walks by. She looks for the kindred pain in others' eyes and immediately LOVES them for whoever or whatever they are. She pretends that the names the school-kids came up with are clever. Maybe she even laughs along - it hurts less to laugh at herself than to cry.


This girl has been singled out, left out, and pushed out her entire childhood.


And this girl is who I am deep down inside.



Sometimes she wins out - and I lose control and find myself 3000 calories into a feast I hadn't planned on. And then the grown woman feels pity for the little girl. And instead of hugging her, be-friending her, telling her she is beautiful - I'm ashamed to say that the grown woman scorns the little girl. Yells at her for being so damned fat and ugly. Bemoans all the pounds that this little girl has caused the grown woman to gain.

It is exhausting trying to mend the bridge between little me and grown me. And I don't even know if I ever will be able to maintain the ground I've gained.

Why do I hate the little girl as much as her classmates did? Why do I make her feel even less than they did? Can't I see that she is hurting? That all she wants is a hug? A smile? A friend?

I am the monster. I've allowed myself to believe what the childhood Me has always heard from her peers.

I have become like those monsters I used to suffer. I have never believed in myself. I've agreed with the name-callers. I've told that little girl that she is what they say she is.

And that is about as ugly as it gets.

The Piper

I'm not sure how I escaped it - but I know I'll have to pay the piper eventually for my partying last night. Down .2 pounds despite eating what everyone else ate at the squadron Christmas party.

I think I'm beginning to figure myself out.

I just want to be like everyone else.

That is my biggest drive to eat what I know I am not allowed.

Horror

Why do I eat?

This is a question that I have been bouncing off the empty walls in my head for 6 months with no immediate answer. I know what triggers me to eat... but why are these triggers so damned powerful?

- Social settings -
I don't like feeling like I'm different than others. If the husband can eat a bucket of popcorn with no repercussions - why can't I?

- Being alone -
The thoughts in my head roar when it is silent. Eating food seems to dampen the noise.

- The husband coming in the door -
I have marveled over the phenomenon of my best friend walking through the door, and my response. To eat like I'm never going to see food again. I'm sure if we caught it on camera, you would be sickened by how quickly I can consume so many calories. But I can. And I do. The other triggers... I've kind of puzzled them out. They're not logical, but I understand them. This one? Leaves me stumped.

Take today - for instance - I had been fine all day long. Not hungry, eating what I'm supposed to (I made chicken soup!! Whoa.) even giving the girls sugar cookie pop tarts without any desire to snatch it out of their cute little hands. The sugar cookie pop tarts, in all their glory, call my name quietly. But I quickly shut them in the cabinet and the silence is immediate. Until. Until the husband walked in the door. And the very first thing I did? Run to the cabinet, open the shiny packet of awesome, and proceed to shove first one...then two cartoon-covered "pastries" in my mouth. And then turkey pepperoni. Followed by chips and cheese and salsa. Then a bowl of rice Chex. And a second bowl of cereal, this time opting for fruity Cheerios (have you tried those?? They're amazing!)

Finally... finally... I stopped. And left the room. And reviewed my 10 minute binge. And then my dear friend called and told me how much she enjoyed my blog. So - here I am, with the horror fresh in my mind. And... I'm baffled.

People! I was NOT hungry when I played the part of garbage disposal. Food wasn't required for my body. There were no signals. So...why?

And how does one overcome this free-for-all?

I know I've got some serious issues with food. I think I might not be alone. Speaking about it frankly has made it easier for me to be in touch with it. I don't find myself cramming food in my mouth in the middle of the night while all the witnesses are sleeping anymore. I am in therapy - and this has helped tremendously. But I just want an answer NOW. Will I ever recover? Return to the carefree child I once was? Or do I have a lifetime of random and frightening face-shoveling episodes ahead of me?

If You Say So... and Then I Did it Anyway

I'm sure many of you have heard of the recent demands made by the FDA for homeopathic HCG to be recalled. I have many reasons to be skeptical of the FDAs judgement, but Fen-Phen is the first to mind and most relevant to this post.

Fen-Phen was FDA-approved. No - Really.

Though the FDAs response is directed at homeopathic HCG - they make many claims that Rx HCG does not assist in weight loss. This video wants you to believe that you will be eating two bits of broccoli for a day and this MUST be why you'd see weight loss. (Seriously - why the theatrics?)

Here is a picture of a REAL meal on the HCG diet

And for kicks - a picture of a real meal on Weight Watchers
(I ate this in November 2007. Tracked it and everything.)


A few of my thoughts -

"...there are sensible ways to lose weight. These include balanced diets, exercising and realistic goals."
While on Weight Watchers - it is true that I lost weight. However, even the new and improved Weight Watchers (probably the closest diet plan to what the FDA is recommending) left me with less muscle and the same amount of fat. My belly hung like an empty kangaroo pouch over my waistband. I felt tired and crabby and irritable and HUNGRY. On HCG - my fatty areas (thighs, belly, arms) are smaller and firmer. I have energy and rarely have hunger pains - I am still crabby... But I'm beginning to suspect this is just who I am and that it is unrelated to my weight loss or gains. ;) On HCG - when I do experience a twinge of hunger - it is very close to lunchtime and my lunch/dinner often fills me so full that I can not finish my plate. The same could never be said for a meal on Weight Watchers. I always wanted more.

"...direct users to follow a severely restrictive diet."
My diet on HCG is restrictive. But - it is far more balanced than what I ate on Weight Watchers. I eat far more lean protein and vegetables than I ever did on Weight Watchers.

“But the data simply does not support [HCG as a weight loss tool]; any loss is from severe calorie restriction. Not from the HCG.”
I beg to differ. I am the data. My fellow HCG-dieters (who follow Dr. Simeon's protocol) are the data. We are seeing results and we are all veteran dieters who have many other diet plans in our experience to compare our results to. HCG is the difference between starving (literally. Without HCG to assist in utilizing your abnormal fat storage - you would be starving on 500 calories a day) and feeling satisfied (NOT hungry) and staying with it.

“[There] is no substantial evidence that it increases weight loss beyond that resulting from caloric restriction, that it causes a more attractive or ‘normal’ distribution of fat, or that it decreases the hunger and discomfort associated with calorie-restricted diets.”
I am the evidence.

(I can't believe I'm showing you these...)

My belly fat on Weight Watchers

My belly fat on HCG

The difference in scale weight is less than 3 pounds between these two pictures. But if you would like to argue that the topmost picture shows any kind of re-shaping, you should probably utilize your back-button and find a different blog to read. The picture on the bottom is the evidence, data, proof, whatever you want to call it - that HCG is indeed re-shaping my body and using up my useless fat storage.

I've read Dr. Simeon's manuscript cover to cover - twice. I'll probably read it again when I begin my next round of HCG. Even if I didn't understand WHY it works - I can see that it works.

I guess I'm also lucky that I have no gallbladder - wouldn't want any pesky gallstones from the FDA-approved fertility drug. :P

The Hard Weigh

Pizza is my arch nemesis. I just can't say no to it. And I don't have a limit with it.

...

Okay - maybe a whole pizza eaten in one sitting would give me pause.

But because of pizza I am sadly floundering at 169.8.

Why does pizza have this power over me? What am I supposed to DO about it? Do I find a substitute? Or like a crackhead going through rehab have to just learn to ignore the craving the hard way?

I wonder if I could talk my family into a two month stint of no pizza? Could we even pretend to be a pizza-free zone?

I think my kids consider it one of the main food groups... I am their mother after all.